Distractions
by Morrigan21
Summary: Zalena Amell has conquered the Archdemon and Amaranthine, but now she finds herself tortured by a certain templar from her past and unsure about her future with the King of Ferelden.
1. Chapter 1: Of Dreams and Nightmares

_**Disclaimer: This world belongs to the creative minds behind the BioWare game Dragon Age: Origins. I am humbly borrowing their world and embellishing their characters**_

OF DREAMS AND NIGHTMARES

Zalena's golden eyes snapped open and darted around the darkened room. She lay breathless for a moment, recalling the nightmare. The thundering in her ears began to subside as her heart eventually found its natural rhythm again. Sitting up she pulled the twisted covers from her sweat soaked body and swung her feet over the edge of the bed. Her toes clenched at the soft fur rug on the floor. Glancing over her shoulder she confirmed that the space next to her was empty. It seemed that she always woke up alone. Alistair must have left some time in the night after she had fallen asleep. Even though Zalena was sure that everyone in Denerim knew about their relationship, Alistair wanted to maintain some level of discretion. She had little choice but to abide by his wishes. He was, after all, still the King.

Three nights in a row she had suffered the same terrific dream. Two nights she would have considered a mere coincidence, but by the third she simply could not discount it and she began to fear its meaning. Pressing a fist to her chest she closed her eyes and focused on the face of the man in her dream. His light copper colored hair, cut short to keep the natural curls from appearing too unruly; the brown eyes that had always held a bit of warmth when they glanced her way. Zalena tried to hold fast to the way his features had always softened when he spoke to her, but they kept twisting into a mask of hatred and even her mind's eye could not distinguish the two anymore. _Poor Cullen._ She sighed regretfully. He had undergone such torment at the Circle Tower and she knew it haunted him still. Her frequent visits to Lake Calenhad made this more and more apparent.

Pushing herself up out of the bed, Zalena pulled a pale blue wrap around her shoulders and walked over to the small window at the far corner of her room. It was still dark out, no indication of dawn approaching yet. She knew it would be fruitless to try and sleep anymore; she hoped Alistair wouldn't be angry if she sought him out tonight. Part of her simply did not want to be alone right now. Tying the silken belt around her waist, Zalena smoothed her hair and sincerely hoped that no one else was stirring within the palace walls at this hour.

* * *

Alistair glanced over at the door. He heard it again, what sounded like feet shuffling just outside of his bedchamber. He had been lost in thought, staring into the flickering flames of the fire, when the first scraping noise had drawn his attention. Alistair reached into the drawer of his writing desk and pulled out a dagger. Perhaps it was paranoia, but the hour was late and it was obvious that whoever stood outside was making an effort to be particularly quiet. He froze when the latch lifted and the door pushed open slowly. A golden head appeared around the edge of the door and two startled eyes met his. Alistair let out his breath in a rush of air.

"Zalena, what are you doing up?" He asked.

"I might ask you the same," she replied stepping into the room and pushing the door shut behind her.

Alistair set the dagger back in its resting place and pushed the drawer closed. "Well, it seems that Ferelden never truly sleeps." He stated waving a stack of papers that he had been holding in his other hand.

"Is there anything you need help with?" Zalena asked, stepping tentatively towards the desk.

Alistair glanced uncomfortably at the pages in his hand and shook his head. "No. It's nothing you need to concern yourself with." He quickly shoved them beneath one of the many ledgers that were strewn about.

"Well, it is my duty to help advise the King." She arched a delicate brow. "With anything that may be troubling him."

Alistair couldn't help but smile. She was his absolute undoing at times. He wished that he carried her air of confidence, but whenever she looked at him that way he was like a stammering young boy all over again. _She is an unnecessary distraction_. Arl Eamon's words rang out in his head, an unwelcome reminder of their ongoing disagreement. Eamon seemed to hound him daily about his lack of a marriage. Alistair had managed to avoid the issue for a couple of years, but Eamon had grown quite relentless of late.

Zalena watched as Alistair's countenance grew troubled. She knew the he and Eamon had fought a lot in recent months, but Alistair had not said anything to her about their quarrels and she had hesitated to pry. Bridging the gap between them she reached out to place a hand to the side of his face. Covering her hand with his own he pulled it to his lips and placed a gentle kiss in the palm.

"You never answered my question." Alistair spoke looking into her eyes.

Zalena chewed on her lip a moment, considering her response. "I awoke to an empty bed and missed having you there."

"Ah, I see." Alistair looked thoughtful for a moment. "Perhaps we should remedy that then."

Pulling her into his arms Alistair kissed her hungrily and she responded in turn. His hand snaked its way through her mass of golden curls and he cradled her head as he gently pulled back to look into her eyes once more. She gazed back at him, sensing something different in the way he looked at her.

"I love you. More that I can possibly say." He said in a husky tone.

"Alistair-" she began, but was silenced as he pressed his lips to hers in another round of ravenous kisses. There was an edge of desperation in the way they held tight to each other. But true to his word, they lay together and he did not hasten for either to slink away in shame.

* * *

Zalena waited for Alistair's eyes to grow heavy. As soon as his eyes closed, she waived a hand over his face and whispered into his ear. _Sleep._ She had come to him troubled for her own reasons and found herself entirely unsettled in other ways. It was obvious that something very serious was weighing on him and it concerned her that he had not said anything to her about it. His breathing grew deeper, to the point that she knew he was sleeping quite soundly. Slipping silently from his bed, she plodded over to the writing desk on the opposite end of the bedchamber. Lightly picking up the corners of the ledgers, she eventually found the papers that he had conspicuously stashed out of sight earlier.

Glancing over the pages, she pondered the contents. It appeared to be a list of names with detailed information about each individual. As she read more of the names, it became clear. This was a list of Ferelden's noblewomen and their relative houses. These were prospects for Alistair to consider naming as his Queen. Zalena felt all of the air go out of her chest, leaving a gaping burning hole around her heart. She had known that this moment would come, but it was so easy to ignore when Alistair spent so much time by her side. Clearly Eamon was growing impatient with Alistair's delay consummating his reign as King. It explained the many arguments that silenced the moment she entered a room, Eamon's cold glares whenever she was present at a ball or formal gathering, as well as his apparent relief every time she left the palace for an extended period of time.

Zalena gently placed the pages back where she had found them. She stared over at the bed and tried to remind herself that she was gazing upon the King of Ferelden. He was no longer just Alistair. He could not be hers forever. She listened to the crackling of the fireplace and was lost in memories of a simpler time, when it was just her and a ragtag group of warriors with a mission. What she wouldn't give for another Archdemon right about now. There was always the Architect to contend with – reasoned a small voice in her head. Perhaps that was just what she needed. A welcome distraction. As she sat contemplating her options, a plan began to formulate. She would visit Anders at the Circle Tower. Her dreams were leading her there for a reason. Perhaps they would venture back to Amaranthine and tie up some loose ends. She had left quite a bit of unfinished business behind in the rubble of the Keep. It seemed that she had left a lot of things undone because of her rush to return to Alistair's side.

Gathering herself up, Zalena tiptoed over to the bed and placed a soft kiss on Alistair's forehead. He moaned but did not stir.

"I do love you, my King, more than you will ever know." She whispered and quietly left his chamber so that she could begin preparations for her journey.


	2. Chapter 2: Not Quite Right

_***Sorry for the delay. A few too many projects pulling me away from my fanfic lately. Thanks for reading!***_

NOT QUITE RIGHT

Alistair felt groggy when he tried to open his eyes. The slight pounding in his head was reminiscent of indulging in too much wine, although he was quite certain that he hadn't indulged the night before. Sunlight washed over the room and he wondered how long he'd been asleep. Feeling the empty bed next to him, he also wondered how long he'd been alone. Alistair had the nagging feeling that something wasn't right. Stumbling out of bed, he pulled on some clothes and splashed some water on his face.

When Alistair stepped out into the hallway, he noticed a commotion at the end of the corridor – just inside Zalena's rooms. The nagging feeling tugged a bit harder. Making his way to the end of the hall, he rounded the corner just in time to see two of the servants arguing. The tall matronly one, who he believed to be the head housekeeper, Mistress Landry, was admonishing a young elven girl. The girl was shaking her head fervently and looking wide eyed at the housekeeper. She gasped when she noticed him watching.

"What is going on in here?" Alistair demanded.

Mistress Landry paused in her recriminations and turned slowly on one heel to see who dared to disrupt her in her duties. She looked as if she was about to begin her tirade anew until she recognized him. Her face immediately softened into a forced pleasantry. "Your Majesty, I apologize if we have disturbed you." She replied, inclining her head out of respect.

"Where is Lady Amell?" He asked.

The housekeeper pursed her lips and puffed out her chest. Glancing to the other servant girl, she waved her forward. The girl's eyes widened even further and she looked to the floor, red hair spilling over her face. When she refused to move, Mistress Landry reached over and ripped a folded bit of vellum from her hands. She approached Alistair and held the thick pages out for him to take.

"This was found on her bedside table. It is addressed to you, your Majesty." She stated formally, then in a whisper, "Perhaps you can tell us where she has gone and if she will be returning."

With that Mistress Landry brushed past him into the hall, the young elven girl scurrying behind her. Alistair turned the folded note over. On the front his name was neatly scrawled in Zalena's unmistakable script. Looking up, he surveyed the room and couldn't help but feel a bit sick inside. Her bedchamber looked as neat and tidy as the day she moved in, before she had unpacked her things. Lowering himself to sit on the bed, he broke the seal and began to read.

Outside the room Mistress Landry hovered, listening and waiting. The silence was nearly deafening and she wondered if the King had yet read the note. She assisted the Lady Amell in loading up a carriage earlier that morning before the dawn light had even appeared. She was fairly certain she knew what kind of letter the Lady left behind, but the anticipation was killing her. Leaning closer to the entrance she heard a movement within the bedchamber followed by a loud crash. She cringed as more items were flung against the hard stone walls. As she smoothed a few stray black hairs into her tightly woven chignon, a knowing smile curved one corner of her mouth. She never had anything against the Lady Amell, but King Alistair certainly wasn't the first young noble she had seen dallying a bit too long with his sexual conquests. In her opinion it was time he let go of this woman, Maker knew he would never marry her. Confirming what she needed to know, Mistress Landry left the King to his tantrum and resumed her duties far away from the ruckus.

* * *

Zalena stood at the glowering front entrance to the Mage's Tower at Lake Calenhad. It had been a brisk ride over in the small row boat and she rubbed her arms against the chill. Mazrath leaned into her leg as if sensing her need for warmth. She patted the mabari lightly on the head, glad for his company. Having left most of her things secured at the Inn, she only had a small chest and her traveling pack with her. It was all she would need for this brief visit. At least that's what she kept telling herself as she stared at the heavy doors, a brief visit was all she would allow herself.

"Are you alright by yourself?" Kester asked setting the small chest down by her feet.

"Yes, thank you. You didn't have to carry that up for me you know."

"It's my pleasure to assist the Hero of Ferelden." Kester smiled.

Zalena let out a nervous laugh, "Oh, Kester, it's been a long time since anyone has called me that. I still feel like the same frightened little girl you ferried out of this place."

Kester gave her a wink, "Not so much the same. I venture that you've become quite a remarkable woman."

"Thank you." She gave him a sincere smile and watched him lope back down to the boat.

With a deep breath she hefted the chest into her arms and turned to address the two templars outside the tower. Both of their faces were disguised by the thick metal helmets that many of the templars wore. Neither of them bothered to acknowledge her presence.

"I'm here to speak with the First Enchanter." She announced.

Without a word one of them turned and slid open a small rectangular slit in the door. "The Warden Commander is here to see Irving," a very feminine voice stated through the tiny opening. Zalena looked startled. Most templars she had known were men. The last female templar that crossed her path she had struck down – and to protect an apostate no less.

After a heavy click, the tall doors began to swing open. The female templar stepped aside and motioned for her to enter. Zalena nodded her head at the mystery woman and walked over the threshold with Mazrath in tow. As soon as she was inside, the doors slowly closed behind her. A loud thud resounding against the stone walls as the doors snapped back into place. Zalena jumped in spite of herself. The circular vestibule was empty save for a few templars stationed inside on either side of the entrance and near the hallway leading to the apprentice quarters. A few moments later, Knight Commander Greagoir came out to greet her.

"Warden Commander," he said crossing his arms over the heavy breastplate and bowing slightly. "Sorry to keep you waiting. Irving should be ready to meet with you soon."

"Greagoir," she nodded in greeting.

"I can accompany you up to his office. Will you be staying for a while?" He asked indicating the chest.

Zalena shifted the burden and looked down. "Probably just one or two nights."

After a few quick words, the chest and pack were taken from her and whisked away to one of the extra rooms. As her belongings disappeared down the hall she walked along with Greagoir silently, patting Mazrath lightly. The journey up the tower was quiet. A little too quiet. Zalena was accustomed to seeing any variety of activities in the common rooms and throughout the mages quarters. Most of the doors were shut up and only rarely did she see someone in the hall. Finally, she found her voice.

"How is everything at the tower?"

Greagoir cocked an eyebrow at her. "Everything seems to be in order."

"Mmmmm." She chewed on her lip, "Has Wynne returned yet?"

"No. Irving has put Petra in charge of Wynne's mentoring duties. I doubt she will return to the tower."

"What of Anders?"

Greagoir stopped and looked at her for a moment. "The Apostate? Oh, yes, thank you for conscripting him. You always did keep rather interesting company."

"Why has something happened?"

"Not yet," Greagoir shook his head and continued walking.

She followed him quietly the rest of the way concerned about the weight of his statement. When they arrived outside Irving's office, Petra was just leaving. She was pulling nervously at her robes and almost plowed right into Zalena. Mazrath jumped forward, excitedly nudging the other mage for attention. She looked up startled.

"Mazrath! Leave her be," Zalena commanded.

He whined but stepped back.

"Oh! I-I'm sorry. I didn't see you." Petra glanced from Greagoir to Zalena.

"Are you alright?" Zalena asked reaching for Petra's shoulder. The other woman flinched at her approach and she let her hand drop.

"Please forgive me. I'm just a bit jumpy right now. Sorry." Petra quickly hurried away from them.

Zalena watched her retreat. Once Petra was out of sight she turned her attention back to Greagoir. "Yes, I can see that everything is in order."

At that moment, Irving appeared in the doorway.

"Zalena! What a pleasant surprise. To what do we owe this visit?"

"You know me. I just can't stay away."

"Well, please do come in. We have a great deal of catching up to do." Irving motioned her into his office and lingered in the doorway a moment. He whispered briefly to Greagoir before joining her inside and closing the door.

Zalena watched him pace around the room to his desk. "You can dispense with the pleasantries, Irving. Feel free to get to the point." She stated crossing her arms.

"The point?"

"Everyone seems a bit on edge. Well, more than normal anyway. Something's wrong. What is it?"

An uncertain smile pulled at the corner of Irving's mouth. She had always been very perceptive. "Hmmmm. Well, I suppose when you put it that way. Something certainly isn't right. I can never say that your arrivals aren't timely."

Zalena took a deep breath and sat down in front of Irving's desk. Mazrath whimpered and laid down next to her chair. As they waited for Irving's explanation, Zalena couldn't help but wonder why every time she went somewhere with a purpose of her own, a whole mess of additional problems cropped up in her path.


End file.
